Patron Saint of Diagnostics
by TrenchcoatsAreSexy
Summary: Crossover with St. Elsewhere. House gets a new team member in Dr. Morrison, who's still recovering from trauma. House is determined, however, to drag him kicking and screaming into being a better doctor - or kill him trying.
1. Chapter 1

Patron Saint of Diagnostics

Chapter One

There were worse ways that someone could spend a sabbatical. A stress-induced sabbatical, at that.

Dr. Jack Morrison had been wary of Dr. Westphall's suggestion, Dr. Auschlander's urging… Westphall's reminder that when it came to Diagnostics, Dr. House was surpassed by no one in his field.

The fact was that Morrison knew there was no way he could bear to stay in Boston after what had happened. He had planned to go to Seattle to recuperate, but maybe Westphall had known him better than he knew himself when he had pointed out that if Morrison stayed out of medicine, he was much more unlikely to return… This way, he would not only return, but maybe return better, sharper.

He would return after learning from the best, instead of out of practice and still sloughing off fear and fatigue.

That didn't mean that he was ready, even as he walked through the double doors at the front of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He couldn't shake the thought that any moment he'd feel a possessive hand on his shoulder, whirling him around to plunge him back into darkness that he had little hope of emerging from.

He felt safer, just slightly, when he found the office he had been sent to – Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine. He wondered what a female Dean of Medicine would be like – he could picture Dr. Cavanero in the role without much trouble, or even Dr. Armstrong, but it still seemed a departure from what he was used to at St. Eligius. Then again, that was what he needed, wasn't it? A departure to Mars couldn't be different enough to satisfy the need to run, to hide desperately.

Morrison knocked on Dr. Cuddy's door, feeling eyes drawn to him like magnets and trying to fight the shiver that he couldn't quite shake from his spine.

"Come in." He heard a bright, professional, if a bit tired, female voice on the other side of the door, and after a short pause – _last chance to run _– Morrison pushed the doors open and stepped inside. "Dr. Morrison!" Cuddy exclaimed as she stood, allowing him a chance to look her over – she was beautiful and shapely, with long, curly black hair and twinkling brown eyes. Her smile was genuine, pleasant.

"Yes," Morrison stammered, stepping forward and shaking her hand as he tried desperately to keep his own still. He reminded himself that he really should actually say something. "I just wanted to say that I'm really so grateful for the opportunity to learn under Dr. House. I've heard so much about him."

"I guarantee you, it's all true," Cuddy replied wryly. "You can learn a lot from Dr. House, and I also believe that you'll lend a lot to his team as well. St. Eligius is a very good hospital, and I have been acquainted with Dr. Cavanero and Dr. Fiscus for a number of years." Despite the tension coursing through his veins, Morrison managed a smile.

"Oh, you know Fiscus?" he asked.

"Who could forget him?" Cuddy replied with a grin. "We've encountered each other at a few seminars over the years. But my point is – we're lucky to have _you_."

At that point, the door opened again, and before Morrison saw the man who'd entered the room, he saw the man's black, wooden cane spiking into the carpet like a flag planted by an explorer.

"Dr. House," Cuddy said in a diplomatic voice that belied more than a hint of pre-emptive irritation and exasperation. "I'd like you to meet Dr. Morrison from St. Eligius in Boston, who will be joining your team for a while."

"I thought you wanted me to hire a woman," House retorted, cocking his head to the side. "Unless there's something I should know." Cuddy took a step forward, giving an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, I wanted you to hire a woman, but you've rejected every single one I've sent to you. Dr. Morrison is a good doctor, and I think he could add a lot to your team. And thankfully for him, this is only temporary, during his sabbatical from St. Eligius."

House turned and looked at Morrison with curiosity.

"St. Eligius, huh?" he asked. "You mean St. Elsewhere?" Cuddy glared at him.

"House, behave. St. Eligius is a perfectly capable teaching hospital, and Dr. Morrison is a good doctor." She shot the diagnostician a warning look. "He can add a lot to your team – like, for instance, a conscience."

"So, you brought me a male Cameron?" House retorted.

"That's for you to find out. And if you accept him, I'll let you off of four weeks of clinic duty."

"Six."

"Four."

"Five." Cuddy looked annoyed, and Morrison watched the bickering with a raised eyebrow. It seemed more like flirting than negotiating.

"Four, House. Now go take him and, Dr. Morrison, if he makes you too miserable, let me know," Cuddy said with a smile at the resident.

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Dr. Cuddy," Morrison replied, though he didn't feel it. He was sure this had been some kind of horrible mistake.

Dr. House turned and began to walk towards the door, his cane spiking into the carpet as Morrison rushed to follow him. Without a word to his newly acquired team member, House made his way back to the conference room, where Foreman, Taub, and Chase were standing and looking impatiently at their boss.

"What are you all standing around for?" House barked at them.

"We don't have a case," Foreman replied. Morrison could hear his voice straddle the tightrope between irritation and exasperation. House ignored Foreman's protests and instead gestured to Morrison.

"This is Dr. Morrison. Cuddy has forced me to take him on. Now, go find me a case, or stand around playing icebreaker games, or hand me the remote – Prescription Passion is on in ten minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Dr. Morrison could remember those days when he would curse his luck, because it seemed like St. Eligius had taken over all of his time. Those days when he would loudly rant to anyone who would listen about how life as a resident was not what he'd hoped it would be, because he had ended up not having a life outside of the hospital. He was constantly filling in for others (_Peter White – no, not going to think about that_) and he would rarely see his wife. Things had gotten more insane when he had ended up with a psychotic bomber for a patient. He hadn't been able to get over the irritation that of all the doctors to get that insipid, spoiled,_ murderous_ brat, it had ended up being him.

Now, he would give anything to have those days, those long endless days, back. At least they were days when he'd close his eyes and hear the monotonous sound of his beeper instead of his own whimpers and screams.

At least Dr. House seemed determined to keep all of his team, Dr. Morrison included, busy, even if it was doing tasks that seemed important only in the mind of Dr. House. He had sent Foreman and Taub off to be involved in some sort of bet which he had ongoing with a colleague – the as yet unseen Dr. Wilson.

Morrison, meanwhile, had just been instructed by House to go into the E.R. to find out if there were any interesting cases.

"By this, of course, I mean I want to see if you know what an interesting case is. I don't know if you have any of those at St. Elsewhere," House told him, and Morrison grimaced.

"St. Eligius," he corrected in what he hoped came out as a very pleasant voice. Without giving House a chance to respond, Morrison turned and walked off to the E.R.

Come to think of it, as much as Morrison didn't want to admit it, he wasn't sure how he would identify an interesting case, at least by Dr. House's standards. At St. Eligius, he had spent his time on whatever cases Dr. Westphall felt he should be working on – hence people such as that insufferable bomber… may God rest his soul.

Morrison knew that House took cases that no other hospital or doctor could solve.

Well, what was interesting to Dr. Morrison, first off? Maybe he didn't need to step into the head of someone he had just met, and after all, House didn't seem like the type to choose a team of people who simply thought the same way that he did.

So what was interesting to him? What had piqued his interest during his time at St. Eligius?

He'd been interested in the people behind the diagnoses, he liked to help people who were sympathetic. That was why he didn't want to treat the bomber…

No, he wasn't going to go there. It was still too fresh, too tender. He reached up and placed his finger gently over his jaw and traced over it, as if to remind himself that it truly was healing. House hadn't commented on the obvious former wire-job, but maybe he was just biding his time. Westphall had warned Morrison that House tended to strike where he knew it would hurt the most – but that he did it to help, not hurt.

It was something Morrison couldn't quite wrap his mind around. Maybe it was a military-like mentality, tearing someone down to build them up again in a better way. But Morrison was wary of the effectiveness of such a technique, and more than that, he felt as if – McAllister, and the other man – the name in his mind, hovering as if surrounded by dark clouds and striking thunder – McAllister and the man whose name he didn't know – had already torn him down enough and in a way that was beyond repair.

"Hi," Morrison said quickly, as he walked up to a young Asian woman who was walking the E.R. with a clipboard. She reminded him a little of Dr. Armstrong, but younger, and as far as Morrison could tell, she looked Vietnamese rather than Japanese. "I'm Dr. Morrison. I'm working for Dr. House."

"My condolences," the woman replied dryly, before flashing a smile. "What do you need?"

"Do you have any cases in the E.R. that might pique his interest?" Morrison inquired.

"Well, that depends. House isn't really a man of consistent taste."

"Just anything you could tell me would be really helpful," Morrison implored.

"Okay, well, you seem really sweet, so I'm glad to help," the woman responded with another smile. "I'm Dr. Phao, by the way." She flashed him a somewhat flirtatious glance before beginning to flip through a stack of folders. "You seem way too sweet to be working for House, might I add."

"Why do I feel like I'm going to be hearing that a lot?" Morrison asked, forcing a grin.

"Because House is a grade A jerk and everyone knows it?" Phao responded. "His antics keep Cuddy distracted a good portion of the day… That's when he's not distracting her in _other_ ways." Phao shook her head and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"What do you mean?" Morrison asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you don't know? House and Cuddy are an item. Have been for a couple of months now," Dr. Phao replied, "Well, this one's not really up House's alley." She moved a folder aside. "Oh, here's one. A twelve-year-old boy with unexplained seizures and hallucinations." She smiled. "House likes hallucinations. They tell me he once treated a boy who thought he'd been abducted by aliens."

"Wow," Morrison replied, "How long have you worked here?"

"Four years. House has been here for…fifteen, I think. Most PPTH stories involve House in some way, shape or form." Phao handed him the folder. "Do you have kids, Dr. Morrison?"

"Yes," Morrison replied with a smile. "A little boy. He's four." Dr. Phao smiled back at the nervous resident.

"I have a daughter. Her name's Phoebe – she's nine."

"You look too young to have a nine-year-old daughter," Morrison blurted before blushing. Phao laughed.

"That's flattering, Dr. Morrison." She placed her hands on her hips a moment before handing him the folder. "You'd better head back before House comes looking for you. It's pretty embarrassing when he does."

"Well, thank you again, Dr. Phao…." Morrison began.

"Oh, you'll see me again," Phao replied with what may have been a wink. "Now, run along to House."


End file.
